


Taking Sides

by PenguinofProse



Series: S4 Time Jump AUs [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s04e13 Praimfaya - Time Jump, F/M, M/M, radio calls but different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: Companion piece to "On His Good Side". Another point of view of the S4 time-jump AU where Bellamy doesn't get the door open. Angst with a happy ending.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Series: S4 Time Jump AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764070
Comments: 26
Kudos: 87





	Taking Sides

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stormkpr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkpr/gifts).



> When I posted "On His Good Side" a couple of months ago, some people said they'd like to see Bellamy's point of view for some of those scenes. This isn't Bellamy's point of view - but I like to think it's something more interesting than that.
> 
> Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing - I hope the Mackson moments here go some small way to thanking you for all the betaing you do for me!
> 
> Happy reading!

Miller says yes without hesitation when Clarke asks him to keep an eye on Bellamy.

Of course he does. Bellamy is the closest thing he has to a big brother, or a best friend, or maybe a little bit of both. And apart from anything else, he owes loyalty to both Bellamy and Clarke for everything they've done to take care of their people since they came to the ground. So if Clarke is asking him something on Bellamy's account – well, then. He certainly can't say no to that.

He does think, though, that he might need a bit more information before Clarke flees the room, as she is evidently keen to do. He knows that Bellamy was arrested – he was there when it happened – but he's heard only rumours about what has come to pass since then.

"What's going on? Why does he need someone to keep an eye on him?" Miller asks, treading the fine line between curiosity and loyal obedience.

Clarke sighs. "He's hurt. Physically and mentally. And he – he cut himself with his handcuffs. And then he said something really horrible about wishing he was on the other side of the door right now. I'm worried that when we let him go free he might hurt himself." She has a tremble in her voice, and trembling is not something he associates with Clarke.

"He'll be alright, Clarke. He's strong."

"His sister's dead." She says bluntly. "I killed her. I'm not sure he'll ever be alright again."

…...

Miller understands Clarke's concern, when he finally sees Bellamy. He arrives at his makeshift cell to escort him to their new quarters, and notes the bandages about his wrists and the grief about his eyes.

But then Bellamy sees that it is him, and pastes on an unconvincing smile.

"Miller. Come to show me to my new home?"

He's confused by this turn of events. Does his old friend not remember that he stood by and watched him get arrested?

"Yeah."

"Great. Roommates for the next five years." Bellamy sounds like he is trying to be cheery, but he is certainly not succeeding.

"Yeah." Miller swallows, fishes about for something more useful to say. "Is that OK? I wasn't sure if you'd hold it against me after – after your arrest. I'm sorry about that."

"It's OK. I don't blame you. That was all Clarke." His voice breaks on her name.

Miller pretends not to hear that. "Let's go check out our new home."

They walk up the stairs in awkward silence. There are a lot of stairs between them and their dorm, so there is a lot of awkward silence. Miller just isn't sure what to say – offering his sympathies for Octavia will sound hollow, he fears, and he doesn't want to probe too deeply into asking about the way Bellamy could scarcely bear to say Clarke's name. Miller is pretty sure that things go wrong when Bellamy and Clarke are not on the same side – he remembers the grounder massacre as if it was yesterday – so he does not want to stir things up between them.

They arrive at the dorm at last. It is not going to be crowded, because the bunker is nowhere near its full capacity. His father is down here, of course, but he has chosen to live with some of the officers. In fact, the only other person who has chosen a bunk in here so far is Jackson.

Miller wasn't too sure about that. Their relationship is still fresh and new, and he's a bit concerned that having his boyfriend live with him from the very beginning will scare him off, or something. Not to mention that he thinks it could be uncomfortable to have Bellamy essentially third-wheeling them for the foreseeable future.

But one look at Bellamy's lost expression as he walks into the dorm has him convinced that moving in with Jackson was the right move. He already wants a hug, wants the steady and consistent support of Jackson's arms, and he's only been keeping an eye on Bellamy for ten minutes.

This is going to be a long five years.

"I hope this is OK." Miller says, not really sure how to deal with the man he's always looked up to seeming so beaten down by emotion.

"It's great." Bellamy lies, with unconvincing brightness.

"Jackson took this bunk, and I'm over there." He points as appropriate. "I hope it's OK that he's rooming with us?"

"Yeah. I'm happy for you." Another blatant lie.

It takes a good deal of encouragement and even _coaxing_ to get Bellamy to pick a bed. Miller can understand that, he thinks. Picking a bed is tantamount to moving in and starting a life. Picking a bed means accepting that this is real, this is _it_ , and his sister is gone.

He chooses the one opposite the door, after all his hesitation. Something to do with being on the alert for intruders, perhaps. Either way, it is done, and Bellamy's few possessions are in place, and Miller breathes a sigh of relief.

He's not sure what to do now, though, and that has him stressed out all over again. What leisure activities can he pursue with his grieving former commanding officer? Maybe he ought to give up on leisure activities, and think about taking him to eat a meal, instead? He knows that Bellamy likes to be busy, but he's pretty sure he shouldn't be trying to keep up with a guard training session while his wrists are bandaged like that.

Bellamy answers the question of what happens next for himself, in the end.

"Thanks for all this, Miller. Really. But would you mind heading out for a while? The doctor should be coming to check my wrists soon and I'm not sure I could deal with you being here for that."

Relieved, and hating himself for his relief, he flees.

…...

Bellamy's unconvincing attempts at cheerfulness continue through the following days. But at least he eats meals at the expected times, and doesn't injure himself, and pretends to sleep at night. These are all good things, Miller decides, and probably represent about as much progress as can be expected, given the circumstances. He doesn't appear to talk to anyone other than Miller and Jackson, but that is no surprise.

The evening doctor's visits continue, as well, and Bellamy makes it clear that he'd rather no one else is there to witness them. Miller gets that, really he does, but he finds it frustrating, too. He has no idea how bad Bellamy's wounds are, nor how much longer he might be injured. And he thinks that the formal visits are a bit over the top, too, because Jackson literally shares the room with them, and presumably he is making a good portion of the visits anyway.

Miller cracks and asks him about it one day. He knows that doctor-patient confidentiality is important, and that he shouldn't be taking advantage of his new relationship, but he just finds the whole situation very odd.

"How are Bellamy's wrists doing?" He asks Jackson while they lie spooned in bed together one morning. Bellamy has popped out for a shower, and this is almost the first time the couple have had alone together since they found themselves in this bunker. Miller wishes he had realised that looking out for a grieving friend was a full time job when he signed up for it. He'd have said yes anyway, of course, because that's what loyalty is, but at least he would have felt better prepared.

Jackson looks uncomfortable. "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?"

"Clarke's the only one who's seen them."

Miller feels his breath catch in his throat. " _Clarke_?" No one has said her name in this room since the door was locked. He hasn't even dared mention her to Bellamy since his voice last cracked on her name.

"Yeah. I didn't think it was very healthy for either of them, and I said I could do it since I live here, but she insisted."

Miller sighs. This isn't how he saw his budding relationship with Jackson panning out – spending their precious seconds alone in fretting about his best friend. But then again, nothing much about his life is anything like what he was hoping for, when he was a boy.

"They've got a weird relationship, Jacks. They always have had. If they're still clinging to each other despite everything that's happened this week, I'm not even surprised."

…...

He doesn't make a fuss about telling Bellamy he knows that Clarke is the doctor who visits every night. Nor does he pass any comment on the fact that he's pretty sure they are mental health visits, as much as for the care of his wrists.

He simply slips it into conversation the following evening.

"I'd better get out of your way before Clarke gets here." He says, apologetic.

"Thanks." Bellamy nods with visible effort.

This is odd, Miller thinks. Bellamy and Clarke might have always had a weird relationship, but he cannot remember Bellamy ever looking _nervous_ to see her before now. Or perhaps not nervous so much as anxious, or even overwhelmed.

"You OK, Bellamy?"

"Great." He lies. "You're right, she'll be here soon."

Miller takes his hint, and leaves.

…...

Clarke's daily visits are still continuing when Bellamy gets notice of his first shift back on duty with the guard. Miller finds that a very strange sequence of events – it must be Clarke who has cleared him for duty, as she is the only one who has ever seen his wounds, but she is still popping by to check on him, and evidently still wrapping his wrists in fresh bandages. How can he possibly be healed enough to return to duty but so grievously injured that she needs to fuss over him every single evening?

"You doing alright?" He asks his friend, fishing for information with all the subtlety of a dropship crash-landing. In his defence, he is the opposite of a trained psychiatrist. "Wrists feeling OK? You looking forward to getting back on duty?"

"Yeah. It'll be good to keep busy and do something useful again."

He nods. "How about the wrists? Clarke still coming over?"

"Yeah." Bellamy won't meet his eye.

Miller genuinely has no idea what they get up to, the pair of them. And he knows it's not any of his business, but if it has Bellamy so nervous yet so utterly committed to keeping their daily appointment he reckons it must be something significant, something more than just bandages. Do they share remorse and grief and apologies? Are they sleeping together to chase their demons away?

It's none of his business, of course, so he clears out of the way.

…...

The following morning at breakfast, Miller starts to realise that something is very wrong. He goes to sit with Clarke, thinking nothing of it, and she starts panicking and asking flustered questions as if she thinks Bellamy has hurt himself.

Miller finds that worrying. If Clarke, who is visiting him every day and is presumably the only person Bellamy will open up to, thinks that is a possibility, then he has to suppose it is indeed a _real_ possibility.

He realises, very abruptly, that his friend is in a much worse place than he previously thought.

It's just that Bellamy hasn't seemed too bad, with all his fake smiles and game attempts at cheer, and he did say that he was looking forward to going back on duty. Miller cannot make sense of all these different puzzle pieces. Solving problems is Clarke's job, and sometimes Bellamy's. Miller is used to following orders, not trying to figure out such messy situations.

He decides, that evening, that a slight change of tack is in order.

"Clarke coming over again tonight?" He asks, although he knows the answer.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Great." Miller pauses, stares at the floor, and gathers his courage. He's never tried to have a conversation like this with Bellamy before. "Look, so I think it's great you've got her to talk to about everything that's happened, with your sister and that. But you know, I'm here if you need to talk to someone else. I know we don't really do all that, but we could, if you want."

He dares to look up from the floor at last.

What he sees astonishes him. There is simply no other word for it. He is shocked beyond belief, because when he looks up he sees that there are tears rolling down Bellamy's cheeks as he shakes with silent sobs.

This is a disaster, Miller frets. He was only trying to be a good friend, to keep and eye on Bellamy as he promised to do, but somehow he has made it worse.

Bellamy starts letting out a high-pitched whine, now, his sobs no longer silent. And he's shuddering, too, looking more of a mess than Miller thinks he has ever seen another human being look before.

He stands and approaches his friend, wishing that Jackson was here now. As a doctor, he's more confident at comforting people. But Miller is here, and Jackson is not, so he steels his courage and sits at Bellamy's side on the bed. He doesn't speak. He just waits. Bellamy will tell him – or not tell him – in his own time, he figures, and in the meantime he will just make a point of being present.

"I can't talk to her." Bellamy chokes out between sobs.

Well, now. That doesn't clarify much.

Miller doesn't ask. He just sits, steady and constant, and waits.

"I can't talk to her." He laments again.

"It's OK." Miller says, even though nothing about this is OK.

It takes a while, but the sobbing subsides eventually. It gives way into a flurry of "I can't talk to her" interspersed with the occasional "she killed her."

At last, Miller feels like he might have a go at talking.

"You can tell me about it if you want, Bellamy. Whatever it is, you know it's safe with me. But if you don't want to tell me, I get that too."

"I can't talk to her."

"You said that." He lifts his voice, shaping the observation into a half-question.

"No, I mean – _I can't talk to her_. I don't mean we haven't talked it out about – about – about what she did." He hiccups out a couple more sobs. "I mean I can't even _speak_ to her. I can barely look at her."

Miller swallows, with difficulty. This whole evening has taken him by surprise, but that explanation most of all. He simply cannot conceive of a world where Bellamy and Clarke are not on speaking terms.

Where does that leave him? Who does he follow, now? Whose side is he on?

More importantly, where does it leave _Bellamy_? Octavia was his world, and Clarke was his rock, and now he's gone and lost both of them with one blow.

It looks like Miller is all he has left.

He shakes his head, and tries to think of something useful to say. He needs to be strong for Bellamy, in this moment, and those big questions will have to wait for later.

"But she still comes here every evening to check your wrists." It is more statement than question.

"Yeah."

"Even though they're basically healed?"

"Yeah." Another sniffle.

"You think she'll keep coming once they're _completely_ healed?"

"Yeah. I _know_ she will. She's – she's _Clarke_."

That sets him to sobbing all over again.

…...

Clarke does keep coming, every evening, without fail. Bellamy's bandages have been gone a week by the time Miller dares to bring it up again. He doesn't think it's very healthy, that Clarke is the only person besides Jackson and himself and very occasionally his father that Bellamy ever sees outside of work – particularly given the circumstances and the fact that he can't actually speak to her. So he engineers a roundabout way of discussing the situation.

It's a scheme Clarke would be proud of, he thinks. But somehow he's not spoken to her at all this last week. Whether out of loyalty to Bellamy or lack of opportunity, he's not quite sure.

Pushing that troubling thought aside, he gets to work.

"Murphy and Emori invited us to hang out after supper. You want to join us?"

Bellamy says yes, of course. Or at least, he grunts. He never says no to anything he thinks is expected of a functional and healthy person.

"Great." Miller pretends that he heard enthusiastic and genuine assent. "I think they want to watch TV or a movie or something."

Bellamy frowns. "Do you know how long we'll be?"

"I guess you want to get back in time for Clarke?"

Another grunt.

"Yeah, we can be back in time for that. Is she... she's still coming by, then?"

He's getting sick of listening to Bellamy grunting, by now.

"I didn't realise she was still doing that." He says airily. It's a lie, but Bellamy has lied more often, of late, so he thinks it's fair. "Seems a bit of a waste of her time, if your wrists are better and the two of you aren't speaking to each other."

"She's still speaking to me." Bellamy clarifies, as if jumping to her defence. Now _that_ , Miller decides, is an interesting development.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Bellamy tries for a carefree shrug, but it's too late. "She tells me about her day and checks – I don't know, checks I'm still breathing? I don't see what the point of it is if she knows I'm never going to speak to her again. She must know I'm never going to forgive her."

Miller manages not to snort, but it takes effort. He thinks Bellamy's acting is _crap_ , and wonders who he thinks he's convincing. _Obviously_ the pair of them are going to sort this out, even if it takes them a long time to get there.

"It's good that she still comes to check in on you." He says, as neutral as possible. He cannot be seen to take sides in this dispute. He is on the side of Bellamy and Clarke, as a general rule, so he's not quite sure what to do now that their side is actually _two different sides_.

"I don't know why she bothers." Bellamy grinds out, jaw clenched.

The thing is, Miller _does_ know why she bothers. And he's absolutely certain that Bellamy knows why she bothers, too.

One day before these five years are through, maybe he'll be ready to admit that to himself.

…...

Bellamy's acting doesn't get much better, in the weeks and months that follow. If anything, Miller thinks it gets worse – or perhaps he just stops trying to conceal what he's really feeling. Either way, it makes things easier. Their conversations about Bellamy's grief and his anger at Clarke gradually grow more honest.

"I miss her." Bellamy announces, one morning, as he lies sprawled over his bed failing to get up and on with his day.

Miller starts, sits up suddenly on his bed. He's not sure how to deal with this – either with his usually active friend being reluctant to get out of bed, or with an honest conversation about grief.

"You mean your sister?" He asks, carefully. _Your sister_ feels safer than saying _Octavia_ , somehow.

"Her too." Bellamy agrees, voice thick with emotion. "But it's like I'm allowed to miss her, you know? She's – she's _gone_ so it's different."

"You meant Clarke?" He tries not to sound surprised, but Bellamy doesn't volunteer to talk about her very often.

"Yeah. It's stupid, I see her every damn evening. But I just – it's not like it was, you know?"

"I get that. If there's anything I can do to help you set things right with her -"

"No!" Bellamy bites out the word, then seems to realise his rudeness and regain control of himself. "No. Thank you. Every time I wonder about trying to forgive her I hate myself for it. She – she _killed her_. It's like – I miss her, but I hate myself for missing her."

"I get that."

"It's OK to miss her, Bellamy." Jackson joins the conversation, and Miller is relieved to hear his gentle good sense. "She was a big part of your life. You can miss her while still being angry with her for hurting you and her role in Octavia's death. It's normal to mourn when you lose a close friendship like that."

Bellamy nods, jaw still fixed firm.

And then, miracle of miracles, he sits up on his bed.

"Thanks, guys. Thanks for – you're great roommates, you know that?"

He grabs some clothes, and starts getting ready for the day, and the conversation is dropped.

…...

Miller falls in love with Jackson quickly. He feels bad about that, given his life currently revolves around his best friend who has recently been disappointed in love in a most brutal way. Bellamy never admits that he loved Clarke, of course, but it's there, plain to see, the inescapable subtext that has him hurting so deeply, now that their connection has been very much severed.

So he tries not to flaunt his happiness in Bellamy's face. It's surprisingly easy, actually – one of the reasons Miller finds himself falling for Jackson so fast is his genuine kindness, and the way he puts such effort into looking out for Bellamy.

Miller mentions that to Jackson one day. He knows it's not the most romantic conversation, but he'll make up for it later. He has an idea or two as to how that might happen.

"Thanks for looking out for him, Jacks. It means a lot to me. He was my friend first but the way you've just taken him in is – it's incredible. _You're_ incredible."

"I know you've been worried about him. By looking out for him, I figure I'm looking out for you, too."

"I didn't look at it that way."

"And anyway, I guess I'm doing it for Clarke and Abby too." Jackson looks away, self-conscious. "I don't want to take sides or anything. I don't agree with what Clarke did. But she cares about him so much – it's so sad to see."

"That's OK. I know they're important to you. It's not like you have to pick one or the other."

"Thank goodness. I wouldn't be able to even if I had to."

…...

Vacating their dorm for a while every evening is not particularly convenient, but Jackson and Miller make the best of it. They develop a little routine, actually, where they go to make use of a spare room whose beds are empty. It's not like they can get physical in the dorm with Bellamy, after all.

It feels wrong, to be making love at the very moment each day that Clarke and Bellamy are failing to patch up their relationship. But it's the only way they have of shaping a good thing out of this difficult time, so they carry on regardless.

Tonight, they stay in their spare dorm a little longer than usual, drawing out the intimacy until it really is time to get back and go to bed. They have talked, before now, of spending the night here, but Miller doesn't want to leave Bellamy alone for that long.

By the time they get home, Bellamy is a quarter of the way through a book Miller has never seen before.

"Is that new?" He asks, cautiously curious.

"Clarke gave it to me." Bellamy replies, looking a little proud of himself for saying her name.

"That's great." Jackson joins in, encouraging. "Is it a good book?"

That is apparently a difficult question. Bellamy's jaw works, for quite some seconds, and Miller thinks he can see his eyes shining with tears under the glare of the fluorescent bunker lights.

"I can see why she gave it to me." He says at last.

"Yeah?" Miller has never cared so much about a book in his life.

Bellamy swallows. "It's about forgiveness. It's about a couple who make mistakes but then they reconnect years later."

"Sounds interesting." Jackson offers, tone neutral.

Bellamy nods. He swallows. He hesitates for a moment. And then -

"I can't stop reading it."

He reads it through three times that week. Miller keeps count.

…...

As the weeks lengthen, they start to build a new kind of normal in the bunker. The new kind of normal in the dorm Miller shares with Jackson and Bellamy is distinctly _abnormal_ , he's pretty sure. Living with his boyfriend and best friend in bunk beds is one thing, but add in the complicated ties of loyalty which conflict with Bellamy's ongoing fury at Clarke, and it becomes unspeakably strange.

Jackson arrives home from a shift in med bay one night, visibly exhausted but with something to say to Bellamy.

"I told Clarke you'd been in the rec room with Murphy yesterday. I hope that was OK. She was asking whether you'd been spending time with any friends other than Miller."

"She asked?" Bellamy sounds surprised, but Miller doesn't know what is so shocking about her being concerned for him. She is hardly coming to their room to talk at him every night for the fun of it.

"Yeah. She asks about you a lot. I never know what to say." Jackson has never enjoyed conflict, and this one is clearly weighing on him.

"I trust you. Say what you think I'd be OK with."

Jackson hums, and Bellamy gets back to his umpteenth re-reading of _Persuasion_.

Miller is trying to learn patience, but it's not his best thing. He's genuinely struggling to know how to interact with Bellamy, now that he's no longer giving out orders or leading the way. So it is that he cannot help but ask the question.

"Are you ever going to give her that book back?"

Bellamy freezes. Then he looks up, slowly, jaw firm. "I don't really want to give it back. I know that's stupid, but I like holding onto it."

"I get that." Miller soothes. He's gradually getting better at making understanding noises.

"I just wish I could talk to her about it. I still can't – every time I even think about opening my mouth in front of her, it's like I'm choking and I can hear my sister screaming and – and -" He breaks off, breathing heavily, visibly over half way to panic.

"It's OK, Bellamy." Jackson steps up and takes a seat at his side. "Healing takes time."

Bellamy snorts. "I should be stronger than this. The things they did to me in Mount Weather – but somehow I can't even _tell_ her how furious I am with her?"

Miller sits on his other side, a show of support, even if he cannot actually do anything to help. He cannot bring Octavia back from the dead, and he cannot bring Clarke back from the brink of becoming a monster. All he can do is sit here, loyal to the last, and wait for Bellamy to work it out.

"The more I read this book, the more I think I might try to forgive her one day." He says quietly.

Miller knows that's a big confession, frightening and guilt-ridden, so he does Bellamy the favour of downplaying it to keep him comfortable. "That's up to you. Whatever the hell you want, Bellamy."

He sighs. "I really do wish I could talk to her about the book."

"One of us can take a message, if you like?" Miller offers, feeling a little ridiculous. He never imagined himself carrying messages about old Earth literature, but he'd do anything for the dysfunctional pair who have kept him alive thus far.

"No, but thanks for offering. This is something I have to do in my own time."

Weeks turn to months, and it seems that Bellamy's own time might be a long while coming.

…...

Miller is surprised, the evening he gets home to find the book gone. Then he realises that Bellamy has been crying, and grows alarmed, too. Bellamy doesn't cry openly so much these days, so this is a source of substantial concern.

"You want to talk about it?" He offers, more comfortable doing so than he used to be.

Bellamy's voice comes out wrecked. "She loved me."

Miller nods, hoping he looks understanding, and keeps listening while he unties his boots.

"She told me today. She _loved_ me, before she went and – before it went wrong. I guess I already knew, but hearing her _say_ it..." He's crying again, now, tears coursing quietly down his cheeks. Miller thinks that he would give anything in the world, more or less, to avoid seeing his friend ever weep like this again.

Well, anything except his relationship with Jackson. That's the one bright spot in this godforsaken place.

"It made it real?" He offers, trying to encourage Bellamy to keep letting it all out.

"Yeah."

He falls silent for a moment, dashing away tears. Miller wonders if this is them done for the day, on the emotional front, and Bellamy will get back to his forced smiles and chat about movie nights momentarily.

That's not what happens. Quite the opposite.

Bellamy takes a deep breath, and then speaks, barely above a whisper. "I think maybe I loved her, too."

None of this is a surprise to Miller, except perhaps for the fact that Bellamy is speaking so openly about it. In fact, he is seriously wondering whether they are using the right tense – surely Clarke keeps showing up every night because she still loves him, even now? And what reason could there be for Bellamy to even contemplate trying to forgive her for something so horrific, unless some part of him still loves her, in this moment?

He doesn't say that, of course. He just nods along, loyal and steady. _Loyal and steady_ is basically his motto, by now.

Bellamy collects himself and continues. "I gave her the book back. I miss it already but it was the only way I could think to say that I might try to forgive her one day."

"You'll work it out, Bellamy. Honestly, I believe that."

He snorts, damp and still a little tearful. "I've always appreciated your optimism."

…...

Something changes, after that. Bellamy stops saying that he _might_ like to forgive her one day, and starts saying that he _would_ like to forgive her one day. He asks after her more openly and more often, too, as the years roll by, and even starts asking Miller and Jackson to pass on little ostensibly accidental messages that he's doing OK, that he watched a film in the rec room, that he's enjoying his post in the guard.

It's a screwed up way of conducting a courtship, but then again, this is a pretty screwed up situation.

He still doesn't speak to her, though. Instead he speaks _about_ her, with increasing enthusiasm, when Jackson and Miller arrive back at the dorm after their stolen alone time together.

"She's been having a tough time with the school. She keeps getting stupid complaints from parents." Bellamy tells them when they get in tonight.

They didn't ask, but they smile indulgently. This is all part of the healing process, they know.

"I'd like to help her with the school, one day, if – you know, if I start speaking to her before we get out of here. I always liked the idea of working in a school. Only I don't see how I will be able to forgive her while we're in here."

"No?" Miller has got the hang of this now. He has to offer just enough input to help Bellamy keep talking.

"No. I think – it's being _here_ , isn't it? This is where it went wrong. I don't think it'll be right until we're on the ground again. And I think – I need to see – my sister." His voice breaks on a couple of errant sobs, still, even after all these years.

"That's OK. You know Clarke – she'll wait for you. She'll give you as much time as you need."

…...

Bellamy is worried about Clarke's cough.

If Miller hears him say it one more time, he swears he will scream.

He gets that it's a difficult situation, OK? He gets that it must be frightening to be worried about the health of a person he loves so much that she is essential to his existence, yet hates so much that he cannot bear to speak to her. He gets that Bellamy feels powerless, and scared, and more than a little lost.

"She works too hard. Someone should tell her to take a break." Miller resists the urge to point out that Bellamy was always the only person who stood any chance of telling Clarke to take a break. He knows that would be cruel and unfair, when Bellamy cannot tell her anything at all, just now.

"I've tried." Jackson sighs, pulling his shoes off after a long shift. "Believe me, I've tried. I'm keeping an eye on her, OK?"

"She does too much. She's always telling me how much Jaha has her do."

"Yeah." Jackson agrees.

"Please don't tell her I said any of that." Bellamy frets. He always ends with that, and that's another thing which is getting on Miller's nerves, too.

He hesitates. There's something he wants to say, but he's not sure whether it would help.

Screw it. It's worth a try. "You know, I think it's great that you're still trying to take care of her after everything that happened."

Bellamy looks affronted. "Of course I am. She's _Clarke_."

Somehow, it always comes back to that.

…...

The night Jackson doesn't come home, both Miller and Bellamy are worried – but they're not worried for the same reason. Miller is worried specifically about his boyfriend, and about what emergency is keeping him so late in med bay, and about whether he will be stressed out and in low spirits for the next few days.

Bellamy, on the other hand, is worried about Clarke. That's been an increasingly common theme of late. He's worried about her cough, and tonight he's worried about her mental state, too.

Miller makes sympathetic noises, but he doesn't say much. He's preoccupied with fretting about Jackson. He doesn't think it's news that Clarke's upset, or that she's got a cough. She's been upset and coughing for months, as far as he can recall. And he gets that Bellamy is frantic, and that he feels powerless to do anything about her wellbeing, but just for one evening out of the last four years, Miller would like to put his own distress first, thank you very much.

"I'm going to go see if Jacks is doing OK." He announces and gets to his feet. Bellamy was half way through a sentence, but Miller is past caring. He loves his friend, really he does, but living with him can be frustrating, too.

He was bound to snap eventually. And if interrupting a sentence that's going nowhere is the worst he does when snapping, he thinks that's not too bad.

Bellamy shakes his head, apparently confused. "Jackson? Isn't he on a late shift?"

"No. He should have finished hours ago. I'm going to go see what's keeping him."

Bellamy swallows. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't – I didn't think."

Miller sighs. "I know. And I'm sorry about Clarke, OK? But I need to go."

It isn't until he arrives at med bay that he realises he and Bellamy were, in fact, worried about the same thing all along. He can't take it in, right away, when a sobbing and shaking Abby tells him that Clarke is critically ill and Jackson is working to stabilise her. It just doesn't want to settle into his brain properly, somehow.

Clarke can't be critically ill. She's _Clarke._

She's made of fierceness and fire, and he can't imagine any illness being brave enough to take her on. And she's been coughing for ages – why should she have finally cracked now? Was Bellamy right to be frantic about her, all these hours that Miller was largely ignoring him?

 _Critically ill_ is a concerning phrase, he decides. It implies that she might not survive. But that's simply not an option, because they can't lose Clarke. If they lose Clarke, he's pretty sure their whole society will fall, tumbling to the ground like a flimsy tower of playing cards.

And Bellamy will break most of all.

Taking deep breaths, Miller sits himself down at Abby's side. She is an absolute wreck, not much help as he asks her questions about what has actually happened, so he resigns himself to waiting for Jackson to come out and report on the situation. There is no point telling Bellamy that Clarke is unwell until they have a little more information, he resolves. He would only panic uselessly and that wouldn't help anyone.

At last, Jackson reappears.

"She's stable. You want to see her, Abby?"

"Yeah." Abby swallows tearfully. "And then we have to talk about me."

Miller doesn't question that odd turn of phrase. He just watches Abby leave, and waits for Jackson to tell him what the hell is going on.

He doesn't keep him waiting long.

"She's got pneumonia. It's bad. I don't know how she was still on her feet."

"She was struggling, from what Bellamy said. I wish we'd listened to him."

"There's nothing we could have done, Nate. You know how stubborn she is."

Miller nods, thoughtful. "Is she going to be OK?"

Jackson sinks heavily into a chair. "I think so. I wish I could be more certain. But she's so weak and she was exhausted even before this. She's going to have a tough time."

"She's a fighter." Miller offers, but his heart is not in it. He's not sure whether she is a fighter, any more.

Jackson hums a little, but moves onto the next concern. "You should be the one to tell Bellamy. I'm sorry, but you know it has to be you."

Miller lets out a rattling breath. "I know. But – what do I even say? I'm not a doctor. I've never had this conversation before."

"You make sure he's sitting down and really listening to you. And then you just have to be honest, and be there for him. He can come and see her, if he wants."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

Jackson frowns. "Are you asking me as his friend, or as a doctor?"

"Either. Both."

"I think they need to be by each other's side right now more than ever."

…...

Miller wants to dawdle on the walk back to the dorm, wants to put off as long as possible the moment when he will deliver the bad news. But he knows that's not fair to Bellamy, so he forces himself to keep walking and shore up his courage.

Steady and loyal. That's him.

"Hey." Bellamy greets him, only half listening while he fiddles with his shoelaces, tying them in pointless knots around his ankles. "Still no Jackson? What's going on?"

"Bellamy. I need you to stop with your boots and listen to me." That gets his attention, either the words or the tone in which they are said.

"What's wrong?"

Miller sits down at Bellamy's side. He takes a deep breath. And finally he can put it off no longer.

"Clarke's sick in med bay. She has pneumonia. She's stable now, but she's very ill."

Bellamy just blinks at him, stunned.

"You could go see her if you like." Miller continues.

"In med bay?" Bellamy asks, apparently slow to resurface from his shock.

"Yeah. Yeah, she's in med bay. She's sick, but Jackson was able to stabilise her." He repeats the key message. "You can go and see her if you want."

"But she's going to be OK." Bellamy states, still struggling to process what's going on.

Miller gathers his courage. Jackson did say it was best to be honest. "We don't know. She's very ill. She's going to have a fight to get over this."

That does it. That breaks something inside of Bellamy, has him snapping out of his shock. All at once he is shaking, tears of horror flowing freely down his cheeks.

"She can't die. She can't die now." He rants and raves. "If she dies now, I don't get to forgive her. She can't die."

Miller doesn't know how to respond to that. He just pats awkwardly at Bellamy's shoulder and waits for it to pass.

Bellamy, though, has no interest in waiting. He jumps to his feet and starts to head for the door.

"I have to go see her. You said it's OK for me to see her?"

"Yeah. Jackson thought it might be a good idea for both of you, actually."

Bellamy nods, once, dashes a hand across his eyes, and strides out into the hallway.

…...

When Jackson arrives home quite alone, two hours later, Miller is even more worried. And that's saying something, because anxiety has been running high, tonight.

"Where's Bellamy?" He asks, half way to outright panic.

"He's with Clarke. I said he could stay the night." Jackson answers, calm and in control. Miller has never been so grateful for his level-headed boyfriend as in this moment.

"You did? Is that a good idea?"

"He wasn't going to leave, Nate. He was just sitting there crying and holding her hand and talking to her. He wouldn't stop talking. It's like he's trying to make up for the last four years. I thought it was best to let him stay for what's left of tonight. I'll make him get some sleep tomorrow when we've got a better idea of whether she's going to pull through."

"You think it's that... uncertain?" Miller may not have seen much of Clarke, since he found himself glued to Bellamy's side, but he still needs her to live.

Jackson sinks tiredly onto the bed at his side. "I don't know."

"He'll fall apart completely if she doesn't make it."

Jackson sighs. "We all will."

…...

She does pull through, in the end. It is in many ways an anxious week, but in other ways it is calmer than Miller has known since they locked the door – because Bellamy spends every waking moment at med bay, and therefore Miller does not expend all his energy in keeping an eye on him. He even gets to eat lunch with his father a couple of times, which he's barely been able to do since he became Bellamy's full-time companion.

Clarke never actually asked him to spend every minute of the day with Bellamy, he seems to remember. But he's steady and loyal, and he wasn't about to leave the side of a friend he'd been asked to keep an eye on.

So, yeah, Bellamy has barely been in the dorm all week, and hasn't been at training at all, and has only made it to a couple of meals.

But when he is around, of course, all he can talk about is Clarke.

"Jackson says she's doing better now." He says on day four. "He might try to wake her up in a couple of days. That's good news, isn't it?"

Miller makes agreeing noises. He's not sure whether it's good news or not. He thinks it rather depends on how Bellamy reacts to it – will he be able to patch up their relationship once she wakes up, or will the situation revert back to how it was before she got sick, as if nothing ever happened?

"I can't believe it's been four days since I heard her voice. I miss her telling me about her day, you know? I've got used to having that happen every evening."

Miller makes another agreeing noise. He's getting good at those, these last few days. Bellamy doesn't seem to require much more input than that, anyway.

This is the most talkative Miller has seen him in years.

…...

Miller knows when Clarke starts to wake up. He knows, because he gets back from his training session to the sight of Bellamy pacing holes in the scant carpet of the dorm.

"Today's the day, then?" He asks.

"Yeah." The syllable evidently takes Bellamy a disproportionate amount of effort to produce.

"You didn't want to be there for it?"

"No."

Miller sighs. Apparently the monosyllabic Bellamy is back. And he gets it, really he does, and he doesn't blame his friend in the slightest. Or rather, he's _trying_ not to blame his friend, is trying to be patient with everything that is in him.

Just as he is losing the will to pursue this conversation, Bellamy surprises him by having another go at speaking.

"Part of me did want to be there for it. But – I couldn't. I just – talking to her when she's awake would be different."

"I get that." He says.

It's a lie. He doesn't get that at all. And he's trying so hard to be a good supportive friend, but he's fast approaching the end of his tether. Bellamy has a second chance with someone he loves, or used to love, or might love one day. And that's more than most people get, on Earth.

Miller honestly thought this scare would do it. That Bellamy would realise he didn't want Clarke dead, that he needed her alive, and that would be the end of this whole affair.

It's more complicated than that, he chastises himself silently whilst Bellamy continues to pace. He knows that grief is messy, and that the human brain is a complicated thing. Jackson has more experience of helping people with their mental health, and has said time and again that it's important to be patient and understanding.

Miller just didn't realise it was going to turn out like this. He didn't realise his best friend was going to be replaced by someone so tearful and illogical.

He can't stay here. He can't stay here any longer. If he does, he'll say something stupid and counterproductive, provoke Bellamy in a way he will regret later.

"I'm going to head to med bay. I guess you want to know when she wakes up."

Bellamy nods and keeps pacing.

Sighing, Miller turns to the door. He is just reaching for the handle when he is startled by a knock.

He opens the door.

"I've got a message from Jackson. Clarke's awake and ready for visitors." Announces a nurse whose name Miller cannot recall.

"Thanks. That's great. We'll be there in a moment."

She nods and goes on her way.

Closing the door carefully, Miller turns to Bellamy.

"Are we going or what?" He asks. He knows that Bellamy said he couldn't be there when she was waking up, but surely he's not about to turn down an explicit invitation to hang out by her bedside?

"I don't know."

"You _don't know_?"

Bellamy recoils as if slapped, and Miller forces himself to take some deep breaths. Steady and loyal, patient and understanding. Those are his aims, for now. Criticising Bellamy for something he cannot help will do no one any good.

Cautiously, he sets out an idea. "How about we just set out and see what happens? I'm going to go to med bay. You can try coming with me, and you can always come home if you have to."

Bellamy nods, and heads to the door.

He makes it over half way, in the end. In fact, Miller is on the point of thinking that he might have done it, that Bellamy might manage to go all the way to Clarke's bedside, when he freezes, breathing hard, and turns for home.

"You want me to come with you?" He asks, concerned.

"No thanks. I'll be OK. Tell me how she's doing when you get back?"

He nods, of course. He would have done that even if Bellamy hadn't asked.

…...

When Miller arrives in med bay, Clarke is already asleep again. Jackson assures him that this is healthy sleep, rather than a coma, so Miller nods along. It's stupid that it turned out like this, he thinks. If Clarke is asleep anyway, Bellamy might as well have joined him.

He expresses some of his frustration to Jackson.

"I get that he's still angry with her. But this situation sucks. Remind me never to kill anyone you care about."

"She didn't kill Octavia. She let her die. There's a difference." Jackson gets the words out carefully, with painstaking calm.

"Jacks -"

"No. I'm sorry, Nate, I'm trying not to take sides here. But Clarke was in an impossible situation, and she's hated herself for it every day since she locked that door. She does so much for everyone in this bunker, she worked herself nearly to death, and now he won't even come visit her when she wakes up -"

"He _can't_. It's not that he won't. He was half way here before he freaked out."

Jackson sighs heavily. Miller has never seen him this worked up before, and it scares him.

"I'm sorry." Jackson says in the end. "I know better than that. It's not his fault."

"It just sucks." Miller summarises.

"It's frustrating." Jackson agrees. "This isn't about him forgiving Clarke for Octavia's death any more. This is about him forgiving himself for loving her anyway."

…...

Things are better, since Miller and Jackson spoke openly about their frustration. They cannot actually do much about the situation, but sharing their feelings honestly helps a great deal. It's like they have finally acknowledged the elephant in the room, that their relationship has grown around the presence of Bellamy and the grief that hangs about him like a cloud. He is, somehow, a part of their story, a third wheel they would not be without, or an adult who depends on them like a child, in some ways.

Bellamy is doing a bit better, too. He might not have actually made it to Clarke's room in med bay since she woke up, but the fact that he even tried that one time is such a hugely positive step that things cannot help but look a little brighter.

"I want to hang out with her more when she gets out of med bay." He announces in the dorm one evening.

"That's great, Bellamy." Miller tries to sound encouraging, rather than pointing out that it's damn weird his friend wants to hang out with someone he still cannot bear to communicate with.

"Do you think we could invite her along next time Murphy and Emori ask us to join them for a movie?"

"Yeah. That's a great idea. I'll ask her, if you're comfortable with that?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Miller has expended a lot of effort on not interfering, these last four years. He has taken great pains not to meddle in Bellamy's affairs, nor to try to force a reconciliation with Clarke.

But somehow, he finds himself deciding that this is one small way in which he can help. He thinks he might have to suggest to Murphy that they make their movie nights a regular weekly event.

And maybe, just by coincidence, they could start that on the very first evening Clarke gets out of med bay.

…...

Miller has never been here for one of Clarke's daily visits before. They're the one time when, without fail, he is absent from Bellamy's side, in stark contrast to the several hours a day he spends eating or training or socialising with him.

He knows how they work, of course. He has picked up a lot from Bellamy over the years. Clarke will arrive, and she will tell Bellamy all of her news. Sometimes she will tell him a little about what's going on in her head, too, or apologise for Octavia for the thousandth time. And Bellamy will sit in silence and listen to her, unable to bring himself to respond, but desperate to drink in her every word.

Miller plans to leave before it gets to that point. He plans to announce the movie night, and then make himself scarce.

Only Clarke catches him by surprise, words tumbling out of her mouth the second she steps through the door.

"Thank you." She says, looking Bellamy right in the eyes and not seeing Miller. "Your voice – I think it was what got me through that. I was struggling, really I was. My mum said this stupid thing about how she was addicted because of the pain and I just thought, _if only she knew_. I'd been starting to wonder if maybe Jasper had the right idea, but I knew I couldn't – you know – because too damn many people are relying on me. So I just have to keep going, don't I?"

Miller feels his heart break at that – and he's not even the one who's in love with her, here. He cannot believe that Clarke Griffin, the survivor, has been feeling so low as to consider taking her own life without him ever noticing it.

That makes him a bad friend, he decides. Or at least, it makes him a bad friend to _her_. He's been so preoccupied with Bellamy's distress that he never stopped to consider how Clarke was coping.

So much for not taking sides.

He knows he didn't ought to be here, but Clarke is still speaking, so it seems too late to excuse himself now.

"So thank you." She says, apparently struggling to sound a bit more positive. "And I promise I'm going to do everything I can to make it possible for you to forgive me, one day."

At last, she is finished, and he takes his chance to step forward and invite her to the movie.

She is shocked to see him there, so much is obvious. And she is shocked at the invitation, too, blinking in confusion. She turns to Bellamy, clearly checking how he feels about the scheme.

She is visibly more shocked than ever when he nods his approval.

…...

The movie nights help everyone, it seems to Miller. It's a chance for him and Jackson to enjoy some time behaving like a normal, relaxed couple, and not discussing heavy topics with Bellamy. It's a chance for Murphy and Emori to get some company, as they are still not exactly the most popular with the majority of the former residents of the Ark. But most of all, it's a chance for Bellamy and Clarke to hang out without any pressure to engage in actual conversation.

Bellamy learns to speak in front of her, a little at a time. And the line between speaking in front of her and speaking _to_ her in the context of a group discussion is a blurry one, and Miller is proud of his friend every time he dares to set a toe across that indistinct threshold.

Bellamy grows more comfortable talking about her, as well as talking around her. She's been his primary topic of conversation since her illness, of course, but now he is getting better at actually saying her name.

"We can't watch another romance next week. Clarke hates them." He says to the dorm at large one evening.

Miller thinks there is probably a good reason why Clarke finds romance movies difficult to stomach, but he senses that bringing it up wouldn't help.

"What are you suggesting, then?" He asks instead.

"A period drama about the Romans?"

"You can't just invoke Clarke to get what you want, Bellamy." Miller dares to tease him for the first time in years. "How is she on your side of this argument when you haven't even asked her?"

"She's always on my side." He responds with a similarly jovial tone.

"You know that's not true. I was there at the dropship."

Bellamy's smile falls a little, but there is still a lightness in his eyes. "I miss the dropship. That's stupid, huh?"

"I miss everything outside of this damn hole in the ground." Miller concludes, joking no longer.

…...

Miller is proud of Bellamy, the first evening he speaks directly to Clarke. That week, they do watch the Roman period drama he asked for – even though it turns out actually to be a romance, but Miller thinks it is probably unwise to argue against him.

"What's the verdict?" Clarke dares to ask the question, gesturing towards the credits of the film.

Miller is on the point of speaking. They take it in turns, he and Jackson, an unofficial agreement to keep the conversation moving so that Bellamy and Clarke do not have to stew in awkward silences.

But tonight, Bellamy beats him to it.

"I liked it." He says.

Miller's jaw nearly hits the floor. Clarke is glowing, grinning wider than he has ever seen her grin before, eyes alight with something that looks a little like victory and a lot like love. And Bellamy is staring at his clasped hands, a slow smile stretching over his cheeks.

It's all Bellamy can talk about, when they get home.

"I did it."

Neither Miller nor Jackson need to ask what _it_ is. They just smile and make congratulatory noises, as Bellamy continues to speak.

"It feels wrong to be so happy about it, you know? It feels like I'm somehow betraying Oc – Octavia. But I can't just go on like this forever. Not when – she could have _died_."

"She didn't die, though." Miller soothes quietly.

"O did." Bellamy chokes out. "She – she _killed her_. But I still can't wait to put things right with her. Does that make me a monster?"

Miller fishes about for something to say, but Jackson gets there first.

"She didn't kill her, Bellamy. She let her die. I know that's still hard to swallow, but you know that she didn't want Octavia to die. She didn't do it deliberately."

Bellamy frowns, hard, the buoyant mood of the evening replaced by deep thought.

"She didn't do it deliberately." He repeats carefully.

He repeats it a couple more times in his sleep, that night.

…...

The next movie night rolls around, and Miller dawdles in the dorm, ready to extend the invitation to Clarke as usual.

"I want to invite her today." Bellamy says, taking him by surprise.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think I can do it."

"You can." Miller tries to sound encouraging. "You got this. You want to practise?" He feels faintly ridiculous asking the question, but he figures it needs to be asked.

Bellamy nods. "We're watching _Persuasion_." He says carefully.

"Great."

"We're watching _Persuasion_." Bellamy repeats for good measure, jaw set firm.

Miller is proud of him. He thinks he's never been so proud of anyone in his entire life, and that feels a bit weird, given he used to take orders from this man. Before he can overthink it, he reaches out to engulf Bellamy in a hug. They don't hug much, as a general rule, but he figures his friend could use some support and good luck wishes at this point.

He pulls away from the hug after a moment, and heads towards the door.

"You got this." He says once more, with what he hopes is a steady smile.

As the door falls shut behind him, he can still hear Bellamy practising under his breath.

…...

Life quickly becomes more comfortable, after that. All is not magically resolved, of course, and Bellamy and Clarke do not suddenly fix their relationship. But the quietness between them feels less tense, now, when they meet as a group, and from what Bellamy says, he even manages to speak to her every now and then during her ongoing daily visits. Clarke stops avoiding their company around the place, too. She gives a perky wave if she sees them in the corridor, occasionally even approaches in the dining hall.

Miller finds their relationship fascinating. They have, in many ways, fallen back into old habits. They are fiercely protective of one another, even though they show their care from a distance. They make each other smile, brighten each other's day. And they understand each other in a way no one else ever will.

In short, they're obviously in love. But they still aren't entirely speaking to each other.

Somehow it doesn't seem to matter so much any more. He wonders about saying that to Bellamy, sometimes. Would he find it reassuring? Would it lift some of the pressure he puts on himself, if Miller mentioned that Clarke is visibly happy to hang out with him even though he still cannot communicate with her as he would like?

He doesn't mention it, in the end. It's none of his business. He's just here to listen, to be steady and loyal.

Bellamy's attempts to engage in normal behaviour grow less stilted, too. It takes him less effort to joke with the other guards, and he is more genuinely enthusiastic about getting out of bed each morning.

It's been a long time coming, but it looks like the clouds are finally starting to clear.

…...

Bellamy has been low in mood less often since Clarke's illness, but he seems to have replaced it with simmering anxiety about her wellbeing. Miller can understand that – Bellamy has already lost one of the two people he loves most in the world, and he probably wouldn't survive losing the other. Having come so close to it when she was sick, it's no wonder he worries about her a lot now.

All the same, it's grating on Miller's nerves.

"She should have been here over an hour ago." Bellamy says, for the tenth time in as many minutes. "She's never been late like this before. And shouldn't Jackson be home by now? What if she's had a relapse and he's with her right now?"

Miller tries to sound more calming than impatient. "He's attending a birth. And you know Clarke didn't relapse, it's more than sixth months since she was sick. She was fine yesterday, you said she told you some story about the school?"

That brings Bellamy back to the moment, slightly, gives him some actual content to focus on rather than just empty panic.

"She said that she's put Greek myths on the curriculum. I think she's just trying to suck up to me." He says fondly.

"Wouldn't surprise me. Why don't you go look for her if you're so concerned?"

Bellamy makes a noise that is somewhere between agreement and horror.

"She's probably helping out either Jackson or Jaha. Just go show her you missed her when she didn't stop by. I bet it would make her really happy to know that."

Bellamy doesn't need much convincing. He nods and heads for the door.

…...

He comes back not long later, relieved and over half way to a genuine smile.

"I take it she's OK?" Miller asks.

"She's good. Told me some stupid story about one of the cadets breaking his arm – she's helping Jackson out in med bay. We reminisced a bit about the dropship. And then she had to go get on with running the world so I said I'd see her tomorrow."

Miller cannot help but notice that there's quite a lot of two-way communication implied by Bellamy's words, and it has him grinning.

"You good? Happy you went to see her?"

"Yeah. I just don't feel right without seeing her every day, you know? Even after everything, she's still the same Clarke. She looks out for everyone. She makes me smile like she always did. And then she gets back to business."

He pauses, sucks in a breath. Miller can tell that whatever is coming next, Bellamy is not finding it easy to say.

He waits, eyes averted, letting Bellamy continue in his own time. He picks a little at his fingernails, keeps his body language relaxed in the hopes of encouraging his friend to chill out, likewise.

At last, Bellamy manages to speak.

"I think I'd still love her, if she hadn't killed my sister." He shakes his head, tries again. "I mean – if she hadn't let her die. Does that make me a monster?"

"No. That makes you human."

…...

It's been a long five years, but at last their time is up. Miller knows that there must be a plan regarding the return to the ground, but he doesn't know what it is. He still doesn't speak to Clarke much, and he still doesn't know how he feels about that. His life has revolved around her, indirectly, for the last five years, yet he cannot remember the last time he spent any time with her without Bellamy at his side.

Bellamy does know the plan. That becomes very clear, the night before the big day, when Miller and Jackson return from their private time in the spare dorm to the sight of Bellamy sitting up and waiting for them.

"We're going up topside with Clarke tomorrow."

Miller nods, and tries to pretend this is not big news. "Who else is on the team?"

"No one. Just us." He gives Jackson an apologetic look. "I mean, just you and me, Miller. And Clarke."

Now that's a damn weird mission team. "Just the three of us?"

"Yeah." Bellamy's jaw is tight. "She said she planned it that way so that I didn't have a load of people around when – when we see where O was."

Now that makes more sense.

"Take care of each other." Jackson says, calm as ever.

Bellamy nods. "It'll be OK. I think – maybe I'll find it easier to forgive her, when we're out of here."

Miller doesn't follow his logic, there. Nothing will change on the ground as far as he can see. Octavia will still be dead, and Clarke will still be at least partially to blame.

But Bellamy is optimistic, and that's something Miller hasn't seen in years. It's something he cannot bear to ruin, so he smiles and lies through his teeth.

"I look forward to it."

…...

Miller was right to think this would be wretched, it turns out. They have barely opened the door when Bellamy spots his sister's body, identifiable by its location and weapon, and falls to his knees at her side, sobbing loudly.

Miller doesn't know what to do, here. He turns awkwardly to Clarke, hoping for something resembling an order. But Clarke isn't looking at him. She's staring at Bellamy, hard, tears welling up in her eyes in turn as she does so.

Bellamy stands up after a while. He turns away from the body, turns towards his two friends.

What he does next takes Clarke by surprise. Miller can see it, can read the tension in her shoulders as Bellamy engulfs her in a hug.

It doesn't surprise Miller at all, as it happens. He's been waiting five years for Bellamy to hug Clarke. He's sorry that it's grief over his sister's death that ultimately broke down his barriers, of course he is, but he thinks it's probably worth it, on balance, if the end result sees the two of them on the same side once more.

They hug for a long time, Bellamy crying softly, Clarke's eyes still visibly damp. They're evidently not planning to let go of each other any time soon, and Miller is starting to feel like a bit of a spare part. But he can't leave, not quite yet. Not until his duty is done, and he can take a proper step back from life at Bellamy's side.

It is Bellamy who pulls away first, some minutes later, his hand skimming over Clarke's shoulder as he goes. It is as if he cannot bear to stop touching her.

He turns round, then, and starts marching away from the door and out into the ruins. Of course he does – he isn't going to stay here next to his sister's body, and Miller knows that Bellamy will never return to the bunker again if he can help it.

Clarke seems less comfortable with Bellamy's departure, but that makes sense, Miller figures. She hasn't had five years of hearing his every thought and feeling to become an expert at reading his mind. She used to have quite a good instinct for it, he remembers, back before the door was locked. But it's no wonder she's out of practice now.

It seems that Miller will have to give her an order, for a change.

"You should go after him."

"You think so?" She asks. She seems surprised.

"I know so." There is nothing in this world he is more certain of, than that Bellamy wants Clarke by his side, today.

She does it. Clarke Griffin, the leader of her people, takes that order from her most loyal lieutenant. She picks up her feet and half-jogs towards the door, skipping over rubble with a new lease of life. She looks nothing like the sad, tired woman he has seen from a distance, these last five years. She looks like the lively young girl he followed when they first came to the ground.

His job done, Miller turns and heads back inside. It's time for him to get back to Jackson, to devote himself fully to living his own life, rather than dedicating half his time to Bellamy's.

He doesn't need to keep an eye on Bellamy, not any more. Not on this side of the door.

He's got Clarke for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
